


My Last Defense

by ChocolateCarnival



Category: Bleach
Genre: Evil!Soul Society, Lime Content, M/M, Memory Loss, One-Shot, PTSD, Zanpakutō Materialization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:11:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1843936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateCarnival/pseuds/ChocolateCarnival
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo, after his fight with Aizen, had somehow managed to keep his powers intact. But because Soul Society decided he might be a threat in the future, they completely sealed his memories of ever becoming a Shinigami and returned him to the living world. Ichigo, the powerful soul that he is, often manages to call Zangetsu to his side when he is in distress. Contains Yaoi</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Last Defense

**Author's Note:**

> For ages I’ve been wanting to write this pairing, they are so poignant in their intensity and I just love the dynamic between them. I just didn’t get the chance to, until now when I finally found my inspiration.
> 
> The relationship between Zangetsu and Ichigo is not explored enough in the manga and I feel that it needs to be showed on a deeper lever, so I wrote this with that in mind. I know it’s only a one shot, I would like to one day write a multi-chapter fic with them as the main pairing, but it’s still some time before I can get to something like that. 
> 
> Anyways, warning before you read: Contains Lime content between two males. If you don’t like, don’t read! You have been warned before hand, this is Yaoi!
> 
> For those still lingering, please enjoy my little short but sweet plot.

Fathomless chocolate brown eyes shuttered quietly, tiredly, behind long fluttering black lashes. The bright afternoon light creeping through the classroom window was quite warm for the late winter weather churning outside. The indolent illumination stealing through scattered black clouds seemed to ignite long and tousled orange locks that Kurosaki Ichigo could not find it in himself to cut. There was something about the style, long and unkempt that fell into his eyes, tickled his ears and slid down his neck that was headily familiar to him. Where something kept telling him that he was supposed to keep his hair like this. Like he waiting for something very important to happen, waiting and anticipating the need to protect those he loved with all his heart. 

Settled within the lazy heat provided by a long red scarf wound around his neck and a warm jumper settled across his shoulders, Ichigo was quite comfortably sprawled over his school desk with his head resting in the palm of his hand and closed eyes staring blindly at the sky outside. His elbow rustled noisily over the crinkling paper of his notebook as Ichigo shifted uncomfortably, loosing himself in a slithering awareness somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. 

Not even the teacher's droning voice pertaining Modern Literature could penetrate the cocoon of strange emotion and unsettling anxiety that now raced through his veins in a blind panic. He shuddered, eyelids clenching shut tightly as his hands started trembling and clutching the pencil within his fingers so that his knuckles turned white. Ichigo despised this lost sensation, the little attacks of frightening intensity and jarring pain that the psychiatrists had called PTSD. That his father, unusually subdued and haunted these days, refused to tell him how he had gotten it and why it was so incredibly intense at times. 

Ichigo was getting tired of this unknown weakness, tired of his own heart racing in fear and his scrabbling mind eternally searching for the unknown memories that were causing him this unease. But he never found his answers no matter how he tried. There was a huge gaping hole in his mind that constantly told him he was missing something very important, no, even his soul told him so but no amount of anti-anxiety medication, calming breaths and frustrating searches through his thoughts ever returned what he was missing so desperately. 

His right hand was itching again, clenching and unclenching around the shattered pencil (that had snapped with the force of his panic) as if it were recalling a familiar weight that would settle all of his pain and anxiety if he were to possess it again. But even that small reassurance was not helping at all. His ragged, rasping breaths, becoming more and more difficult to keep quiet, were rushing past his lips in unbidden alarm as darkness danced before his rapidly blurring vision. In the distance, far removed from Ichigo's little sphere of terror, his mind was headily aware of the shouted calls of his name and even the approach of a familiar presence but he was far too lost in his own little world to concentrate an ounce of thought into it. 

There was an unwavering darkness engulfing him now, bathing the atmosphere headily in the coppery and unmistakable scent of blood. He could smell it, taste it on the tip of his tongue as it clung to the skin of his hands. Rivulets of inescapable red were running down his hands, past his wrists and sliding sickly down his arms to soak a path of red dye into the white of his uniform... And the gaps between his fingers, where he was supposed to be holding the lives of those he loved, were wavering in trembling uncertainty—. 

'Breathe, Ichigo.' A deep baritone implored suddenly and the sixteen year old flinched violently at the voice echoing within his ear. The warm presence had not only succeeded in invading his terror filled world but was standing right behind him with a hand resting upon his shoulder as a pillar of support. Ichigo shuddered at the warm dancing fingertips of the other hand, slipping beneath his red scarf, to carefully curl around the back of his neck and playfully tease the wisps of lengthened orange locks in a generous bid to calm his rapidly building panic. 

'Just breathe, Ichigo. Calm yourself, there is nothing here that will hurt you. I will not allow it.' The voice claimed harshly and Ichigo, lost in the dizzying sensations of reality rushing back to him, straightened his protectively hunched shoulders to lean against a warm stomach as he allowed a soft exhalation of breath, like the whisper of the night's wind upon a butterfly's wing, to rush past cherry red lips and drain his body of its tension and shuddering sensations of fear. The fingertips resting upon the sensitive skin of his neck, urged Ichigo to look forward as he was suddenly engulfed in a rushing warmth of a steady chin resting atop his head and a warm coat wrapping around his shoulders as two arms descended over his shoulders to splay long fingertips across the surface of his blood stained desk. 

The embrace was warm, fierce and caused a ragged breath to be drawn into resisting lungs. Chocolate brown eyes gazed dazedly at the ink stained pages of his textbook that had been dyed red with the slow leak of blood from an injured hand. Ichigo tsked irritably, he had clutched the broken pencil so hard that it had cut into his palm and was making quite an eye-catching mess all over his desk. As if his panicked state had not drawn enough attention in itself. 

When he saw the teacher hastily approach his desk from the front of the class, her mouth forming words he could not comprehend, Ichigo stiffened instinctively in the familiar embrace of the spirit around him as that deep voice washed calmingly over him again. Breaths rustled his hair, causing brown eyes to flutter shut again as he let out a low whine of fright. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, to see the damage that had been dealt to him by an unknown factor his mind was too terrified to recall. But the fast approach of the concerned teacher and hundreds of eyes trained on him in judgemental concern left him suspended somewhere between retaining only panic and desperately wanting to calm down as the spirit surrounding him told him to do. 

'Relax Ichigo, I'm not going anywhere.' The older man reassured and Ichigo allowed the painful tension in his shoulders to loosen minutely as Zangetsu continued to hold onto him firmly, keeping him grounded in a world of rapidly swirling chaos. And in return he was quietly re-establishing Ichigo's faded connection to reality as warm blackish-brown locks tickled a furrowed brow softly and a deep calming baritone hummed a soothing melody. Ichigo shifted in his seat, but not in discomfort, rather to get closer to the radiating heat engulfing him so completely as time seemed to have stopped moving around him. 

Zangetsu was definitely a strange character, Ichigo had decided, ever since the spirit like being had first appeared to him four months ago. Standing like a silent sentinel by his side, it had been a week since he had woken from his memory loss 'coma' when he first glimpsed the older male appearing in his presence. Ichigo hadn't been bothered or frightened by his presence, no, merely curios. The old man was definitely a ghost as no one in his class and his family, besides Karin, were able to see him but he was one hell of a strange spirit. 

Because the moment Ichigo had laid his eyes upon the tall, trench coated figure, he knew there was something a little different and special about Zangetsu. The exceptionally tall man had no chain attached to his chest and he only ever appeared beside Ichigo when he was stuck in a panicked state or he was feeling exceptionally lonely. He enjoyed recalling those little moments right before he fell asleep at night, where there would always be a warm hand carding through his hair. So gentle, so calming, as it brought him closer and closer to a peaceful rest. But the strangest thing wasn't that Ichigo allowed Zangetsu, a ghost, to touch him and comfort him. No, it was the moment that Ichigo had first seen the man materialize by his side that the sixteen-year-old had instantly called out his name as if he had known him his whole life. And deep inside, he never wanted Zangetsu to leave his side ever again... 

'Kurosaki? Are you alright? You gave us quite the fright there.' Said the bespectacled teacher, dragging Ichigo forcefully back to himself from his lazily drifting thoughts. He merely shook his head softly and assured her that he would be fine despite her sceptical gaze. She surely didn't want to believe him as she straightened her back defensively, allowing her fingers to rest upon a trembling shoulder that instantly made Ichigo jerk back at the touch. When fingers that did not belong to Zangetsu or his family touched him, Ichigo was instantly on the defensive and caused him to shudder in disgust and pulled away as if being burned. 

He hated that all his teachers were made aware of his new weakness, hated even more the way they pitied him and handled him as if he were a piece of shattered glass.  
He was just about to sneer and shout his building frustration when Zangetsu gripped his shoulder and did something to him that left him light headed and swimming through a world of bliss. It was almost like the older spirit was pouring his spiritual energy into the very depths of Ichigo's soul to not only calm him from his irrational anger but to still his rapidly rising panic. 

And Ichigo's trembling stopped instantly, his hazed brown eyes clearing with a hint of silver as he blinked owlishly at the now looming presence of not only the teacher standing beside his desk but Ishida Uryuu as well. The black haired genius, whom Ichigo could have sworn he knew better than what his mind told him, looked quite put out where he was standing and if Ichigo had known better. He would have sworn that those intense dark blue eyes were trained upon Zangetsu's form that was enveloping him protectively with awed irritation.

'Pack your things, Kurosaki. I'm sending you home. There's no way you'll pay attention these last two hours if you're spacing out like that.' The teacher said firmly but Ichigo did not miss the pitying concern lacing her voice as she turned to the tall teen standing beside her. 'Ishida will let the front office know and see you out.' It was a dismissal and Ichigo took it as it came, knowing that Ishida was only asked to tag along to make sure he did not hurt himself any further than he already had. So he shrugged nonchalantly, quietly grateful for her consideration, as he packed his things before cradling his injured hand to his chest. 

Whispering a soft 'thank you' that only Zangetsu could hear as the spirit continued to stand faithfully by his side. Ichigo kept his concentration solely focused on walking in a straight line one step at a time. Marvelling enviously at the ease in which Zangetsu's long legs and booted feet carried him forward with no sound upon the floors to give his presence away. Even though Ichigo stayed stoically silent in the tall, black haired student's stifling presence next to him, Ichigo still offered him a soft apology as well. Knowing he had irritated the teen by dragging him out of class with his silly errand. 

Ishida only huffed irritably and for once Ichigo was glad that Zangetsu's hand never once moved away from his shoulder, because he was the only thing that kept him from collapsing as he steered Ichigo forward through swaying steps and uncertain dizziness. He was the silent pillar that kept the orange haired teen together in that moment and nothing would change it. 

~~~~ 

Trembling fingers, now less unsteady than before, fumbled for several moments with the keys to unlock the clinic doors with mild frustration. Recalling vaguely that his father had said he was closing the clinic that day for some business errands, but either way, Ichigo counted himself lucky as explaining his early return would become quite problematic otherwise. The house was eerily silent as he stepped inside, reminding him too much of the sound that followed death but he remained grateful for Zangetsu's warm presence following faithfully behind him. 

'Sorry for making you come out at school; I know you don't like appearing there.' The teen said softly, shivering at the icy coldness that emanated throughout the house and encased his bones in a deadly chill. Ichigo cursed his hyper sensitivity towards Zangetsu's presence that remained close to him. The tall, handsome in a scruffy looking way, spirit said nothing for a while as pale blue eyes, hidden behind wrap around yellow sunglasses, gazed at Ichigo coolly. His depthless eyes assessing Ichigo's symptoms before he stepped closer. Warm hands rested upon trembling shoulders as Zangetsu turned the teen to face him fully, not completely unaware of the flush of pink tingeing pale cheeks with Ichigo's embarrassment at their close proximity. 

'It's fine, Ichigo.' He assured gruffly. 'I will come whenever you call. It doesn't matter where or why, if you want to protect or be protected, I shall always be beside you. Never forget that.' The words were spoken like a soul deep promise that Ichigo was sure he was unworthy of from a man like Zangetsu but that did not stop his shiver at their heady implication. Shuddering in quiet pleasure and not cold when warm fingers tugged Ichigo forward by his red scarf before they wound it more firmly around his neck, Ichigo smiled his thanks softly. Chocolate brown eyes remained completely captivated by the sorrowful dance of emotions across the depths of those hidden eyes as he leaned subtly towards the heat Zangetsu's body gave off. 

'Tch, that sounds like a love confession, Ossan.' Ichigo blurted suddenly, turning his head to the side with ragging embarrassment so that the older man would not see the brilliant colour that rushed to his cheekbones and coloured a dainty nose a rosy, violent red. 

'Only if you want it to be.' Zangetsu said with an amused smirk as the palm of his hand, resting on Ichigo's lower back, ushered him towards the stairs without any further argument. 'Now. Up to your room, Ichigo. I'll get your medication.' The sixteen-year-old said nothing in retort, too stunned to even speak at the audacity the tall spirit had in ordering him around, and damn it all! Why was he listening in the first place? It was not easy hiding his exasperation at the older man's words to him, but Ichigo had come to understand that Zangetsu was just infuriating like that. He would say the most embarrassing things at the drop of a hat, but never before had he ever lied to Ichigo. 

Strangely, that was more than enough for Ichigo to trust him with his life. And in doing so, Ichigo also allowed the spirit to see this weakened side of him where his hands did not stop shaking after an attack for hours on end or he could barely even form a coherent sentence to convey what he was feeling inside. So when next the warm, silent presence indicated Zangetsu's arrival by the strange rustling of his flowing trench coat of black that bled to red at every ripple of the fabric, it was like a soothing balm of compatible companionship that was poured over the teen's hypersensitive awareness. 

Ichigo was sitting self-protectively upon his bed, his hand treated and wrapped in a white bandage, still dressed in his school uniform with his legs tugged to his chest to keep warm and his forehead resting exhaustedly upon his knees as he fought off the lessening waves of panic and shivering awareness that clung to his skin like a cloak of icy intension. The slide of a warm hand settling upon his back, slowly but surely tugged him back to himself as Ichigo found himself flinching at the cool glass of water being pressed against his forehead to bring him back to reality. 

'Ichigo?' Zangetsu called softly and chocolate brown snapped open to stare into concerned blue orbs hidden behind a flash of yellow. 'Are you with me?' At the teen's slow nod, the spirit then reached forward to press a tiny white sphere of medication into Ichigo's waiting hand. And at the realization of what it was, brown eyes instantly darkened in anger at the small pill resting in his palm as if it would kill him if he did not glare it to death first. 

'Drink it.' The older spirit ordered and Ichigo grimaced at the demanding tone but decided to still defy the order as much as he could. 

'I don't like it; it makes me feel weird, like I'm not in control, Zangetsu.' Ichigo recounted in a small, frightened voice. 'I don't like being not in control of my life. If I'm not in control then how can I protect everyone?' The teen asked pathetically, head bowing with silent defeat as long orange bangs flopped into his eyes and partially shadowed the pain clearly visible in his chocolate brown eyes. The action caused the Zanpactō spirit to sigh softly. He was well aware of Ichigo's aversion to the forcibly calm effects the medication induced, but that did not mean he would get away with not taking his medication. 

'Then trust in me, Ichigo.' Zangetsu said forcibly. 'I said that I will protect your friends and family when you can't and just so will I protect you when you cannot do it yourself. Now drink it, if you do not then I will force you.' He warned, pale blue eyes watching as Ichigo, weighing his options in an internal conflict, finally relented his momentary defiance and brought the medication to his lips and drained the glass of water in several quick swallows. Brown eyes reigniting some of their dimmed fire and glared wilfully at Zangetsu's satisfied smirk. 

'Don't think I did it for you.' Ichigo spat suddenly, his forehead once again falling to his knees to hide the flush staining his cheeks. Zangetsu was showing a rather large range of expressions and changing emotions that day and Ichigo wasn't sure how to deal with this new sensation chasing up his spine. But when the presence of his guardian shifted abruptly, frightened fingers instantly shot out to grip onto the edges of Zangetsu's surprisingly smooth ragged coat to keep him from leaving. A soft noise of distress lodged itself in his throat that Ichigo couldn't hold back, he hated the sound because it made him seem weak but Zangetsu didn't seem to mind. 

He said nothing, just kept still as Ichigo built up the courage to spill the words that had suddenly become stuck in his throat.

'What is it, Ichigo?' He asked gently and suddenly the trembling in the gripping hand became worse. 

'Don't leave, please don't leave.' Ichigo pleaded. 'If you go...if you go, it'll come back...the pain, the loss I don't understand and—.' He was promptly silenced by a tanned, calloused thumb pressing against his full cherry red lips; parting them softly as the pad of a finger explored the soft flesh tenderly and brown eyes instinctively fluttered shut at the strangely pleasurable feeling. Both of Ichigo's hands now came up to dig into Zangetsu's coat, attempting to pull the older man's closer to him than ever before. A soft sigh passed his lips, his tongue tentatively reaching out to touch the flesh of the exploring fingertip with great uncertainty in what he was doing. 

'Nnngh...' The teen moaned softly, brown eyes opening hazily as a tickling kiss was pressed against his forehead and Zangetsu settled onto the bed to lean protectively over him again. And from where his lips connected to Ichigo's flesh, that strange sensation flowed into rapidly heating veins again. The pushing and tugging power that reached to the depths of Ichigo's soul and made him cry out for more in both pleasure and fear in its intensity. The floating, heady, and out of control sensation was much worse than any medication could do to him but Ichigo was stunned when he found he was not afraid of it at all. Not when Zangetsu was so close to him, enveloping him in the edges of his warm coat and his powerfully flowing presence. 

It only took several seconds for Ichigo to lean upwards, welcoming the powerless sensation when he instinctively shifted; seeking out warm lips with his own clumsy ones. 

'Hmm...' Zangetsu grunted softly, a smile barely tugging his lips upwards at the flushed and awed expression crossing Ichigo's pleasure hazed features. Not minding the clumsy lips that connected to his whiskered cheek instead of his lips. He smiled in great amusement at the sudden flash of need that darkened chocolate brown eyes considerably. 

'Do you want me to show you, Ichigo?' He asked softly, completely calm in the situation despite the strange twist it had taken. His smooth tone of voice calling out seemed to bring Ichigo partially back to himself. Eyes blinking owlishly when the flush across a delicate nose suddenly started subsiding as Ichigo was lost deep within his thoughts. His gaze directed at Zangetsu from behind hooded lids, partially concealed behind long orange bangs, was strangely alert. Missing nothing in the change of expression on his guardian's usually stoic features. 

'S-show me what?' Ichigo uttered softly, his face heating up again when his half reclining form, rearranged so that he could bring Zangetsu closer to him earlier, was suddenly pushed back into the soft comforter and pillows of his bed. Zangetsu's taller and stronger form leaning over him, large hands pressed on either side of his head as he balanced on his knees. His surprisingly agile form keeping him steady as he hovered over Ichigo's smaller form. 

'The pleasure in giving up your control? To throw away your fear? Do you want me to show you that there is nothing to fear when I am beside you?' The orange haired teen was stunned. Shifting a little bit in surprise when a large hand hovered a few millimetre's above the skin of his neck. The nonchalant action making Ichigo quite aware of his own vulnerability in that moment. Yes, there was certainly fear racing through his veins, but there was also an adrenalin rush of excitement he couldn't explain. 

So he expressed his confusion with a small whine when Zangetsu leaned down suddenly to simultaneously dig fingers into the skin of his neck and brush chapped but soft lips against his in a harsh, demanding kiss. Ichigo gasped at the sensations chasing down his spine, digging into the very depths of his soul as he cried out and reached up his hands to tangle them in wavy brown locks. His entire body arching towards the source of his pleasure as fingernails dug into a smooth scalp and his lips parted under a questing tongue. 

It was hard, demanding and Ichigo was struggling with his rapidly rising breaths and his racing heartbeat that was beginning to fight with the calming drug in his system. 

'Z-Zangetsu...' He pleaded, pleaded for something he could not understand but the moment those lips had touched his own, Ichigo felt as if something deep inside of him had clicked in place and Zangetsu's hands were the one's guiding him forward now. He keened again when long fingers tangled in his long locks and short nails dug into his pulse point almost painfully, measuring the beat of his heart and the array of emotions rushing across depthless brown eyes. 

'Will you let me show you, Ichigo?' The older spirit asked again. 

'Y-yes.' Ichigo nodded dumbly. He wanted...wanted something, some sort of connection to tie him to this man and forging it between them now was like blissful pleasure he could not contain. And the heady rush of uncontrolled fear, it was only spurning on this desperate need further. 

~~~~

His body was sensitive, Ichigo decided in half awareness. He had never known that little fact, hell he hadn't even been kissed in the way Zangetsu had kissed him before but his mouth was already shamefully parted, panting for breath, as he whined for that soft press of lips and harsh dominance to come back. An undignified noise left his lips...his wrists tugging at the new restriction he found himself caught up in. He glared through his pleasure lowered lids at his wrists that had been artfully bound in the red scarf he had previously worn around his neck, the restriction even furthered by the knots to the bed's headboard.

Zangetsu's warm presence was still hovering over him, a steady touch of familiarity that kept Ichigo from completely losing himself to the raging panic that was swirling just beneath the surface of his skin. The tall spirit had settled himself between Ichigo's now forcibly spread legs, his calloused palms tugging a red tie from Ichigo's uniform without remorse as he un-tucked his shirt from grey pants. 

'Relax, Ichigo. Breathe...' Zangetsu commanded as Ichigo twisted and writhed in his bonds at the sensations of warm palms pushing his shirt and jumper up his torso to expose his chest, stomach and stiffening nipples to the cold air swirling within his room. And everywhere those warm calloused palms touched, they left a fiery trail of want across trembling skin. Ichigo, obeying the spirits words as they came, stuttered through several hitched breaths at the ragging contrasts of hot and cold threatening to overwhelm his senses. 

'Lesson one, Ichigo. Giving in and throwing away all inhibitions to only feel and experience the sensations as they come.' Zangetsu's calm voice rumbled above him, causing hazed brown eyes to snap open to gaze openly at the man who was so completely possessing his will. 'Can you do it?' The spirit asked but Ichigo knew he couldn't say no, Zangetsu would not allow him to do so. So he nodded softly, focusing on relaxing his straining shoulders and thighs to fall back into the sheets and become a boneless heap. 

His actions were rewarded with a soft hum of appreciation from Zangetsu as a thumb tapped a soft rhythm in sync with his wildly beating heart against his pulse point. Another distraction provided by the other hand trailed teasingly down his chest to drag blunt fingernails over a sensitive nipple. A hitched breath caught in Ichigo's throat as he shuddered in want beneath the touch. The pleasure accompanying it was unexpected and made his mind want to spin out of control. 

Ichigo whined, straining against the bonds, even when he remained lax, a desperate need for more curled deeply within his stomach. He wanted to touch too...but Zangetsu no Ossan had said that he was only allowed to feel. Nothing more and nothing less. But his eyes pleaded, his mouth parted in need as a thrill of excitement chased down his spine when warm lips latched onto his own. This time the kiss wasn't demanding, but a languid exploration of tongues and teeth. Ichigo, so lost to the newly exploring sensations was coaxed to follow a slick tongue back into Zangetsu's mouth. He moaned softly at the newness of the sensation, it was warm and tasted so pure that even when yellow sunglasses dug into the bridge of his nose painfully, Ichigo did not pull away. Instead he pressed closer, his own fingernails digging into the palms of his hand to try and ground himself from the weightless sensation invading his entire mind. 

'Zangetsu...please.' Ichigo pleaded, eyes lidded as his chocolate brown orbs followed the string of saliva that still connected their tongues before it snapped as the distance between their faces grew. His body jerked when a large, warm hand settled on his abdomen. A strangled sound coming from his lips as he tried to fight the heightened arousal that swam through his veins. He was already hard and straining and the older man's gentle touches were not helping him to establish a link that would connect him to reality. 

He was floating through sensations, completely unbound but still tethered all the same...

'I will give you unbelievable pleasure, Ichigo, but you need to trust me. Lesson Two, irreplaceable trust. Do you trust me Ichigo?' Zangetsu asked softly, fingertips tracing Ichigo still clothed erection with a teasing caress, not enough to give him the friction he needed but enough to make Ichigo want to cry and scream for more. 'Do you trust me to let go completely when I ask you to?'

'Y-yes.' Ichigo said with a frustrated groan, his back arching to try and thrust into the warmth that was now seeping through his arousal and winding the coil in his stomach tighter. 

'Good, I shall not allow you to fall, you shall never falter in step for you are strong, Ichigo. So very strong, so trust me with your life and I will give you more pleasure than you can comprehend.' For some reason, those words caused something to shift within the orange haired teen. Turning his head to hide the tears of relief he felt building within his eyes in the crook of his tied arm. Ichigo valiantly fought off the sob that wanted to lodge itself within his throat. But Zangetsu would not allow him the privilege to look away from his pleasure and shame as strong fingers forced him to face forward again. 

'You need never to turn away from me, Ichigo. Remember lesson one, just feel.' And feel Ichigo did, a yelp of uncontrolled rapture bowing his back as his trousers were undone and pushed over his hips along with his boxers. But that was not what caused him to yell his pleasure, no, it was the calloused palm that encircled his hardened flesh. An agile thumb swiping the beading pre-come around the head as a blunt fingernail pressed blissfully into the slit. Ichigo moaned lowly at the slow, torturous pace that was set, building him up to the raging rapture that was engulfing his veins like molten fire and sweeping through his blood in a new intensity he could not fathom. 

Compared to doing it oneself, this pleasure was far more intense...especially when bound as he was. Ichigo cried, jerking against his bonds when teeth dug into his shoulder and Zangetsu's rumbling voice was whispering comforts and encouragements in his ear. The tears had not stopped falling but there were no shame in them...just acceptance, need and relief. He was begging, crying for more. His entire body was balancing on the edge of a precipice of unadulterated rapture and Zangetsu was leaning over his shoulder, ready to push him over it. 

Fear gripped his heart and his breath hitched, but that comforting hand was back on his shoulder and Ichigo keened loudly. 

'Please, please...let me go.' Ichigo pleaded, the Zangetsu in his half dreaming delusions was holding him back when he wanted to dive off the edge of that frightened precipice. Assured that nothing but bliss and acceptance awaited him at the bottom of the ragging sea. He was begging he knew, his body straining against the bonds and he felt, just like Zangetsu told him too, but something...something was missing from his guardian's instructions. How to take the leap... 

'Lesson Three, Ichigo.' The voice rumbled in his ear as teeth nibbled on the sensitive skin of his neck and Ichigo stiffened, the torturous pace had picked up and was keeping him balanced just barely on the edge of coming. He cried, sobs ringing out through the house as he was kept from finding his release. His chocolate brown eyes begging for more, pleading for Zangetsu to show him mercy but he was only offered a stifling kiss as a tongue was thrust into his mouth and he instinctively arched into the call of lips on lips and pleasure chasing pleasure. 

'Instinct. Let go, Ichigo, let go of what is holding you back. In battle, in life, instinct is what leads us forward.' Zangetsu commanded and Ichigo chocked on his breath as his climax roared through him with uncontrollable force. Zangetsu was still talking somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear the calming baritone but the words escaped him. Ichigo's vision had turned white, the coil that had been wound tightly in his stomach had snapped with such force that as Ichigo was slowly breaking his way through the ragging torrent of rapture to ascend back into his awareness, he was already instinctively curling around Zangetsu's form as he was lifted in strong arms and placed beneath the sheets of his bed. 

He scooted back instinctively, making space for the older man to join him. 

'Don't go, just yet.' Ichigo said with raw emotion, the tears that he had refused to allow himself to cry before wouldn't stop now and Zangetsu was the only one that was calming him. The intense experience had left him completely drained and feeling vulnerable but he didn't want to let go of Zangetsu's warm presence just yet. Besides, what of the older man's pleasure...he wasn't going to take and not give anything back. However, at its mention, the older man just chuckled softly as warm arms pulled him against a strong chest. 

Ichigo curling against the warm trench coat he had come to know so intimately. 

'Lesson four, Ichigo, we shall save for another time. For now, just rest. You are already on the brink of exhaustion. I will not leave untill you have awoken again.' 

~~~~ 

Zangetsu sighed softly, his pale blue eyes closing behind his yellow sunglasses as he allowed his Master's contented happiness to wash through his entire being. It had been a long time since the rain had stopped, if he had known that Ichigo had been craving affection on such an intimate level he would have done it much sooner. The actions not only strengthened the bond that was supposed to have been severed when Ichigo used the Saigo no Getsuga. Even though their soul deep bond had been reformed on the battlefield that day for some reason and Ichigo had not lost his powers, he had found a new hatred for the boy's so called allies. 

Ichigo's new strength and frightening control over himself and his power had prompted Soul Society to seal the child's memories of ever coming into contact with the Shinigami in case he became a threat in the future. The Zanpactō spirit scoffed in quiet anger, his fingers stroking through the long and messy orange locks to calm Ichigo's shivering form and hitched breaths. Their meddling had left a black hole in the child's memories that not only frightened Ichigo because he could not remember saving his friends and family, but had also led to him developing post traumatic stress syndrome because his dreams were filled with such terror that he could never remember when he woke in the mornings. 

They had made a single mistake though, Zangetsu thought with a smirk, Ichigo would never be normal even if you sealed his memories of ever gaining Shinigami powers. The teen had unconsciously released so much reiatsu that he had materialized Zangetsu by his side a week after he had woken from his medically induced coma. And continued to do so whenever he was in distress or needed someone by his side. The older spirit did not mind his increasing trips into the human world, especially when Ichigo was vulnerable and needed his protection.

The teen was so deeply aware of their bond that he never once flinched away from his touch, never once questioned where Zangetsu came from and allowed the older man to touch him how he wanted. Something that his family was not even given the privilege to do. But the Zanpactō spirit, he was allowed by Ichigo's side in a soul deep trust that went both ways. He was glad, Zangetsu loved his master more than anything and wanted nothing than to forever protect him. So when Ichigo started showing the signs of unconsciously remembering his sealed past, Zangetsu had decided to stay by his side no matter what the outcome. 

He knew very well that the long orange locks that he was carding his fingers through, was Ichigo's half remembrance of his fight with Aizen and how he had looked then. His inability to let go in protecting everything that was dear to him, left him with a remarkable sense of awareness of his surroundings. Zangetsu was proud and protective as his arms tightened around his Master, never again would he let go. Never again would he let Ichigo suffer as he had before. He would make sure of that and he was glad that Ichigo was beginning to listen to his words, finally beginning to believe his sincerity whole heartedly. 

'Ichigo,' He said softly as the teen shifted against him. 'It rains constantly in the world I come from.' He breathed calmly, lips softly brushing against a smooth forehead as Ichigo shifted to tangle in the soft fabric of his coat. 'But, when you are like this. So sweetly innocent, fully letting go of your inhibitions and sealed memories, it stops. I'm glad I have found a way for it to stop, because I hate the rain, Ichigo. If only you'll let me, I'll make it so that the rain can never again fall in that world. So sleep well, I shall forever stay by your side, my sweet Ichigo.'

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, please let me know through a review or a fav, I’d really, really appreciate that. For now though, I’m so damn cold in this NZ winter, I’m going to enjoy some well deserved hot chocolate.  
> Yours Always  
> Chocolate Carnival.


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